Unexpected Joy
by ohhowmarvelous
Summary: Magenta becomes pregnant with Riff-Raff's child. How do they deal with what they had never expected?
1. Intoxicated Passions

This is a Riff/Magenta pregnancy fic. I hope you like it, and thanks to all of you that reviewed on my other two stories. You guys give me confidence to actually post what I write.

Disclaimer: Richard O'Brien owns Rocky Horror...but definitely NOT this story. :)

**Chapter One: Intoxicated Passions**

Frank had been having another one of his parties, where all of the best-looking men and women of Transsexual, Transylvania were invited. This was for obvious sexual reasons. His servants, Riff-Raff and Magenta, were, of course, given the task of preparing the meals, setting up decorations and, in short, planning the entire get-together. As always, they resented this.

The party was now in full-swing; the band was very well-received, and all the guests of the party were dancing with the neon lights on full-blast behind them. Everyone, that is, except the servants, who were drifting back and forth from the entry door and the bar. Magenta spent most of her time at the bar.

"Riff…" she said, heavily drunk, swinging an arm over his shoulder, "IdunnowhaIdowithouyou."

"What?" asked Riff-Raff, stiff around his tipsy sister.

Magenta just laughed, falling on top of Riff-Raff, who held her securely in his arms. He grabbed the nearest drink he could, knowing this was going to be a very long night.

Frank strutted over to the servants, eyeing the way Riff-Raff was holding his sister suspiciously.

"How are the refreshments?" he asked, poking Magenta's limp arm, knowing she was drunk. "Are they…still…in good supply?" he asked, smirking.

Riff-Raff nodded. "Yes, master."

"Good," said Frank, eyeing the passed-out Magenta with disgust. "Don't do anything to disappoint me." He walked away, leaving Riff-Raff wondering what he could have meant.

Riff-Raff ran his hand through his sister's hair and sighed. She was out cold. He grabbed a case of hard liquor, dragging it and Magenta to the elevator.

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Riff-Raff laid Magenta on the single bed in the servants' quarters. _She looks beautiful even in this state_, he thought. He sat on the bed beside her, causing her to wake up.

"Riff-Raff…" she mumbled.

"Shh," whispered Riff-Raff. "Just lie down."

Magenta smiled. "Okay." She slowly pulled Riff-Raff by the collar towards her, kissing him on the lips. She then began to unbutton his shirt in her sloppy, intoxicated way.

Riff-Raff laughed, drunk now as well from partaking of the liquor. "What are you doing?"

Magenta just laughed, placing Riff-Raff's hands on top of her breasts for a moment, then sliding them down to the buttons on her maid's uniform, which he eagerly began to unbutton.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," said Riff-Raff.

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After it ended, just before the darkness stole him away, Riff-Raff heard the words of his master repeat in his mind- "Don't do anything to disappoint me."

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	2. Sickness

Disclaimer: Richard O'Brien is bald! And he owns Rocky Horror...which I suppose is more relevant in this situation...

**Chapter Two: Sickness**

It was morning, a month after Frank N. Furter's party. Magenta was in the kitchen, frying bacon on the stove, the smell of which seemed stronger than ever and was making her feel queasy. Columbia sat on a stool next to her.

"And so Frank told me that he didn't need the socks after all," said Columbia, finishing a story. "I've never understood THAT one, but, you know, things never change, do they?"

Magenta nodded, and then grimaced. "Columbia, I'll be back…can you take care of this for a moment?"

"Sure…" said Columbia, eyeing Magenta suspiciously. "Have you been feeling well lately, Mags?"

Magenta had already left the room. Though Columbia had not known, she had run straight for the bathroom, throwing up the seemingly endless bile in her stomach.

She sighed, standing up and looking at herself in the mirror. Her eyes had even darker circles than usual under them. She had been up all night, bent over the toilet, the sickness almost overtaking her.

Magenta cleaned up and then turned to go back to the kitchen. She knew something was not right with her, but she was not going to tell anyone if she could help it. She was not one to lay her problems on others.

Magenta opened the bathroom door to find her brother, a deeply concerned look on his face.

"Again?" he asked. He had been up all night as well.

Magenta shrugged. "It must be a stomach bug," she said, and tried to turn for the kitchen, but Riff-Raff caught her arm.

"You're not well, Magenta," said Riff-Raff. "I can complete the rest of your work for today. You should rest."

Magenta shook her head. "No, you already have to…"

"Magenta," said Riff-Raff. "I care about you more than anything. You know that. Please, lie down before this sickness gets worse."

She sighed. "You may be right."

Riff-Raff escorted his limp and exhausted sister to their bed, his brow furrowed in worry.

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Riff-Raff entered the kitchen. Columbia bombarded him with questions.

"She doesn't seem…right, you know?" said Columbia. "I heard her last night. I'm sure you did, too."

Riff-Raff shook his head. "I don't know what could be wrong with her."

"Have you tried asking her?" asked Columbia, transporting the bacon from the pan to a plate.

"She insists that it's only a stomach flu," Riff-Raff said.

Columbia sighed. "I don't know…I'm just...concerned!"

The computer-messaging screen turned on, revealing an angry Frank.

"It's been thirty minutes," he said. "Where is my breakfast?"

"It will be sent right up, master," said Riff-Raff, a look of scorn on his face.

Frank looked around the room. "Where is Magenta?"

"She isn't feeling well, Frankie," said Columbia. "She needed to lie down."

"I am taking over her duties for the day, master," said Riff-Raff.

Frank sighed. "Very well then. Send up the breakfast." The screen turned black.

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As exhausted as she was, Magenta knew she had to get off the bed and to a bathroom. _Again?_, she asked herself, pulling herself off the bed and inching towards the bathroom. After she had finished, she cried, sobbing into her hands. _What have I done?_, she thought.

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	3. Hidden Danger

**Chapter Three: Hidden Danger**

Magenta woke up in Riff-Raff's arms, another night of delirious ecstasy behind her. Her sickness had finally, after a few weeks, gone away. Things were beginning to look up for her.

Riff-Raff moaned in his sleep as Magenta kissed his forehead, then the tip of his nose, and then his lips. "Is it morning already?" he asked.

"Yes, darling," said Magenta.

The two were unwilling to leave either person's arms, so they laid there, talking.

"You seem much better than last week," said Riff-Raff.

"I told you it was just a bug," said Magenta. "You're always worried about me."

"That's my job," said Riff-Raff, kissing Magenta's neck, causing her to laugh.

Columbia opened the door, gasping at what she saw. "I'm so sorry…" she mumbled, closing the door.

"What is it, Columbia?" Magenta asked pleasantly, though Riff-Raff looked angry to be disturbed.

"Oh, I…" said Columbia, flustered. "It's twelve-thirty, you know."

Magenta gasped. "The master's breakfast!" She leaped out of bed.

"I made it already," said Columbia. "I figured you two didn't want to be disturbed," she said, grinning.

"You figured right," muttered Riff-Raff.

"Remember, today's floor-cleaning day," said Columbia to Magenta.

Magenta sighed. "The entire castle, I suppose?"

Columbia nodded. "I'll help you out if I can," she said, but Columbia and Magenta both knew that wouldn't happen. Columbia would be too busy following Frank around like the groupie she was to help with the servants' chores.

Riff-Raff groaned. "I forgot. Furter's insisting on digging up another body for reanimation today."

Magenta kissed him on the cheek. "Don't be gone too long."

Riff-Raff smiled. "I won't keep you waiting."

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Frank and Riff-Raff had just pulled over their beat-up pick up truck at the Denton Episcopal Church's graveyard. They were both in average, earthly clothing.

It was now nighttime. Frank grabbed a flashlight and handed Riff-Raff a shovel, expecting him to dig. Riff-Raff sighed…this was the job he hated the most, out of all the duties Frank N. Furter bestowed on him.

They stopped at the grave with the shortest gap between the life and death dates. Frank only needed young bodies for his "work".

"Randall Venerto…" Frank mumbled. "Well, we'll change his name and be done with it. Now dig."

"Yes, master," said Riff-Raff, and he began to dig.

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Magenta sighed. She had washed and waxed the floors of the dining room, kitchen, bedrooms, ballroom, and lab. Now, at midnight, she was working on the foyer.

Magenta's vision had begun to become fuzzy. This was surprising, since she was usually awake at this hour of night without even this task at hand. Blaming it on exhaustion, she pressed on, feeling lightheaded.

A few moments later, Columbia entered the foyer, bored. "Do you need any help Ma-"

Columbia gasped. Magenta was passed out on the floor, looking paler than she had ever seen her before.

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Frank and Riff-Raff were finally on their way back to the castle, the body causing the car to reek of death.

"I think we have a good catch this time," said Frank, grinning and turning to Riff-Raff. "Don't you think so?"

Riff-Raff sighed. "Whatever you say, master."

Before they could say anything else, screaming was heard from nearby. As they approached the castle, it sounded like someone calling for help. Frank stopped the car. A sobbing, dripping-in-mascara Columbia ran to the car window.

Frank sighed, thinking that this couldn't be much of a problem. "Columbia, what-"

"It's Magenta!" Columbia managed to get out.

Riff-Raff's eyes went wide. He vaulted out of the car, running for the castle, thrusting the door open. He saw Magenta, now propped up by some throw pillows, pale and unconscious on the floor of the foyer. He knelt on the floor, tears in his eyes, feeling her palm for a pulse.

"I'm back," he whispered. "I'm here."

"I found her like this," Columbia whimpered.

"We need a doctor," said Riff-Raff.

"I'll go get Frank," said Columbia.

"No! A REAL doctor!" yelled Riff-Raff, lifting his sister into his arms and carrying her outside.

Frank looked on as Riff-Raff placed Magenta in the pick-up truck's passenger seat.

"Is she all right?" asked Frank.

"Take the god-damned body out of the car!" screamed Riff-Raff.

Frank scoffed. "You can't-"

"I said TAKE IT OUT OF THE CAR!" screamed Riff-Raff, a look of fire in his eyes.

Frank took the body of Randall into his own arms and carried it into the castle, disgusted to be doing a servant's job. Riff-Raff sped away in the pick-up, determined to save Magenta.


	4. Expecting

**Chapter Four: Expecting**

Riff-Raff sat impatiently in the hospital waiting room. He had registered Magenta under a fake name, saying that she was his wife. _It's closer to what we really are than siblings_, he thought.

He tried to concentrate on a Newsweek magazine, but he was too anxious. Riff-Raff supposed that Magenta was still feeling ill after the sickness but, as stubborn as she was, she wouldn't admit it.

Finally, a door opened.

"Mr. Dawson?" asked a nurse in hospital scrubs.

"That's me," said Riff-Raff, standing up, rushing over to the woman. "How is she?"

The nurse smiled. "You can see her now, if you would like."

Riff-Raff nodded, and the nurse led him down three separate hallways before they came to the room Magenta was in. It was in the Maternity Ward.

Riff-Raff entered the room. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Magenta nodded, her face stone. Something was not right about the look of fear in her eyes. They were red from tears.

The nurse looked at her forms. 'Well, Mr. Dawson, you should be glad to know that your wife is one-hundred percent healthy. We ran some other tests, however, and it seems that your wife was suffering from complications due to…"

"No," said Magenta. "I want to tell him myself. In private."

Riff-Raff had a strange look on his face.

The nurse shrugged and left the room.

"Magenta, what is wrong?" asked Riff-Raff.

Magenta had an odd sort of smile on her face. "Nothing is wrong, darling. It's wonderful news."

"What?" asked Riff-Raff, confused. "What could be so wonderful that it caused you to get so-"

"I'm pregnant, Riff-Raff," said Magenta, cutting him off. "And you're the father."

Riff-Raff's jaw dropped. He began to stutter, trying to form some sort of response.

"It explains why I was so nauseous those weeks," said Magenta. "And too, I'd missed my period and hadn't even realized it."

"This is not good news at all!" yelled Riff-Raff.

"Shh, you'll draw attention to yourself!" whispered Magenta angrily.

"No!" shouted Riff-Raff. "Do you know what happens when people like us have children?"

Magenta buried her head in her hands and began to cry again. "I was worried this would happen!" she cried.

"Worried?" said Riff-Raff, quieter this time. "You have to get this thing aborted, Magenta, as soon as possible."

"No," said Magenta.

"What?" asked Riff-Raff.

"No!" shouted Magenta. "We'll find a way! Somehow…"

Riff-Raff's eyes boggled. "Are you right in the head, Magenta? This child will destroy you from the inside-out, and when it comes, it will be disfigured because of our relationship. Do you wish that on any child?"

Magenta sighed. "You know the laws about abortion, Riff."

Riff-Raff shook his head. "It's allowed on Earth. We can get it done now if you want."

"Those things cost money," said Magenta. "That's something we don't have."

Riff-Raff sighed. This was right. They made less than minimum wage as funeral attendants at the church.

He crumpled into the nearest chair. "How far along are you?"

"Two months exactly," said Magenta, matter-of-factly.

Riff-Raff's eyes went wide. The party!

"We both were drunk," said Magenta. "It's not surprising we didn't do anything to prevent this."

"What do you suppose we do about this, then?" asked Riff-Raff.

Magenta's face was blank. "I…I don't…"

Riff-Raff sighed and dropped his head into his hands. "Arewe going through with this?"

Magenta's face still seemed like a wall of stone. "I don't know."

"We could get it aborted without a doctor," said Riff-Raff.

"Riff, if I could be frank, I don't want someone ripping it out with a wire hanger," said Magenta.

Riff-Raff closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. "Do we keep it, then?"

Magenta's eyes brimmed with tears. "Yes," she said quietly.


	5. We're Overjoyed, Right Darling?

**Chapter Five: We're Overjoyed, Right Darling?**

Riff-Raff and Magenta, who had silent tears streaming down her face, drove back to the castle. They knew they had to tell Frank and Columbia. They were dreading it.

Riff-Raff pulled the car over. He helped Magenta back to the house, as she was still disoriented from her fall. Columbia ran out of the house to help them.

"Is she all right?" asked Columbia.

Magenta smiled. "I'm fine."

Columbia gave Riff-Raff a questioning look.

"She's fine," he said. "We'll explain later."

As he said this, Magenta stumbled a bit, causing Columbia to grab her arm in alarm.

"Then what is it?" she asked.

Magenta smiled through her tears. "A secret, for now."

Columbia let go of Magenta's arm, a hurt look on her face.

Magenta and Riff-Raff could not even enter the house without a confrontation with Frank.

"So..." he said, eyeing the visibly-ill Magenta. "What's the verdict?"

Magenta smiled, a cold look in her eyes. "Well, master, it seems that I am with child."

Frank's eyes widened. "With child?!" he shouted, shocked.

Columbia gasped from behind them, throwing up her arms. "You're pregnant?!" she shouted, rushing to get all the details from Magenta, who was being rushed along by her brother to their room. Frank, of course, followed them.

"How did this happen?!" shouted Frank, full of rage. "And with whom?"

Magenta, Riff-Raff, and Columbia climbed into the elevator. As it began to move up, Magenta grinned and answered "Riff-Raff."

Frank's face contorted to a look of absolute disgust. He had to know how something like this could happen in his own home.

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As they climbed out of the elevator, Riff-Raff tried to help Magenta walk to their room, but she resisted.

"Riff, darling," she said, "I'm pregnant, not terminally ill."

Columbia sighed wistfully as Magenta laid down on her bed, clutching her brother's hand. "You're having a baby, Magenta."

Magenta looked at Riff-Raff. "No," she said. "We are."

Just then, the door crashed open.

"What do you suppose you two are going to do about this?" asked Frank, livid with anger. "Honestly, I had no idea...my best servants, moralless ingrates!"

"Moralless?" shouted Riff-Raff. "You hypocrite!"

Frank grabbed Riff-Raff by the collar. "You don't want to push it, Riff McKinley." With that, he pushed him to the floor.

Magenta stood up in anger and slapped an astonished Frank across the face.

"Don't you dare hurt him, Frank," she said.

Frank just laughed mockingly. "And what are you going to do about it? Soon you'll be too bloated to do anything at all, and when your precious incest baby comes out all wrong, you will regret ever having this...this...relationship...in the first place!"

Magenta, her mouth hanging open, watched as Frank stormed out of the room, slamming the door. She sat down on the bed, tears in her eyes.

"Maybe he's right..." she whispered, tears now streaming down her face.

Riff-Raff stood up, took Magenta in his arms and held her as she cried, getting teary himself.

"Congratulations..." mumbled Columbia as she left the room, leaving the two siblings with their grief.


	6. Worries

**Chapter Five: Worries**

A month had passed since the night of Magenta's incident. She and Riff-Raff were attempting to deal with what they had been dealt, but the news was hard on both of them. Riff-Raff buried himself in labwork, becoming so quiet that he barely spoke at all. Magenta became a mere shell of herself, coasting through her daily life as though she was not completely aware of her surroundings. The dark circles under her eyes worsened, her complexion becoming even paler. Columbia took notice of this, staying permenantly at her side, concerned for hers and the child's health. Frank, on the other hand, completely ignored his servants except to bark orders or occasionally to glare at them, hoping they understood the full severity of their decision to keep their baby.

On this particular night, Magenta had been staring at herself in Columbia's mirror for over ten minutes now. Columbia, smoking a cigarette, had been watching her. Finally, she stood up.

"Magenta..." she asked. "What are you looking at?"

A blank look in her eyes, Magenta pulled off her work smock, which was already becoming more snug around her waistline. Now, standing in her bra and panties, she put her hands on top of her slightly-bulging stomach. "I've got one already," she said, almost in a monotone.

Columbia smiled. "A pregnancy belly? Of course, Mags..." she put her hand on Magenta's stomach. "That's how you know the kid's alive."

A slight smile danced across Magenta's face as she laid her hands on top of Columbia's. "Alive..." she mumbled, looking Columbia directly in the eyes for the first time in days. "There's something alive inside of me."

"That's your baby, Genta," said Columbia softly, happy to hear Magenta speaking in full sentences again.

Magenta's eyes began to get teary again. "My baby..." she whispered.

"Uh-huh," said Columbia, patting Magenta's hand, weary of another crying spell coming on.

"Oh Columbia!" Magenta shouted, sobbing at the same time and nearly scaring Columbia to death. "My baby's a girl, a little girl, I just know it!"

Columbia smiled, just taking this as more of Magenta's half-conscious chatter as of late. "Yes, Magenta, it _could_ be a girl."

"No, no, I know for sure!" said Magenta, looking happier than she'd been for months. "On Transsexual, they've always said that a mother knows for sure the sex of her child at the end of the first trimester."

Columbia's eyes widened. "You mean..."

"Yes!" shouted Magenta, hugging Columbia tightly. "My baby's a girl!"

Columbia's eyes filled with tears. "I'm so happy for you, Mags."

Suddenly, Magenta's expression reverted back to one of sadness. "Oh, don't be," she said. "I may have a daughter, but...but a sick daughter."

Columbia put her arms around Magenta's unnaturally frail body. "You don't know that yet," she said as Magenta began to cry again.

"If only Riff wasn't my brother..."she said. "He...he doesn't even want it."

"Now how do you know that?" asked Columbia, taking every effort to make her naturally shrill voice soothing.

"It was m-my idea, keeping the baby," said Magenta. "He wanted to...to abort it."

"Oh, Magenta," said Columbia as Magenta began to shake-sob again. "I'm sure that Riff was just scared. I mean, the guy hasn't said a thing all month!"

Magenta sighed. "He would never admit it."

"Neither would you," said Columbia.

"Well, fine then," said Magenta, her Transylvanian accent emphasized as her emotions flared. "I'll say it now, Columbia, I am absolutely terrified!"

As Magenta began to sob again, Columbia rubbed her back, shushing her as a mother would do to her own child.

"Hey..." said Columbia, wiping the tears from Magenta's face with a bloody rag that had been lying around. "Would you like it if I painted your toenails? They might as well look nice...I mean, soon you won't be able to reach to paint them yourself."

Magenta smiled, and then began to laugh. So did Columbia.

"You know, for an Earth girl..." said Magenta, "you truly are the best friend I've ever had."

Columbia smiled and hugged Magenta. "Same here."

The door opened. It was Riff-Raff, a wide, elated grin on his face.

Magenta looked up at her brother, smiling back at him. She stood up, taking her hand in his and placing it over her stomach.

For a moment, they both stared at each other, looking as if they could even communicate through silence.

Riff smiled, his eyes soft. "You're showing."

Magenta smiled back, her eyes getting watery again. "The child...Riff, she's a girl!"

Riff-Raff's face broke into the most delighted look Columbia had ever seen on the butler. He kissed Magenta, tears of happiness instead of worry flowing down her raw, tired face.

"You did want it, then," said Magenta, slightly ashamed of herself.

"Of course I did," said Riff-Raff, almost looking hurt. "Why else would I be slaving away in the lab creating pre-natal vitamins for you, specially formulated for our type of relationship?"

Magenta's eyes went wide. "You mean..."

"It surely wasn't impossible," said Riff-Raff. "If it is possible to create life itself, I could surely find a way to guarantee our child's health. And I did."

"Oh, Riff..." said Magenta, "you don't know how much this means to me."

"Are you sure it'll help and not hurt the baby?" asked Columbia, her voice showing concern. False hope was one thing that Magenta definitely did not need right now.

Riff-Raff sighed. "It's never been tested, but it is the only way we have to try and stop any defects before they start."

"It's worth it..." said Magenta, grasping her brother's hand, "for the baby's sake."

"RIFF-RAFF!" Frank could be heard screaming from the lab. "YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!"

Magenta gasped. "Did you do this without the master knowing?"

"Of course I did," said Riff-Raff, paling. "He never would have let me do it otherwise." He pulled a semi-large vial of transluscent liquid out of his pocket. "I saved it, just in case an incident such as this happened. We'll inject it into you every day for the rest of the trimesters...and we'll see what happens."

Magenta smiled softly, despite Frank's shouts that could be heard in the background. She took the vial, holding it carefully, understanding how important it was. "Thank you, brother."

Riff-Raff kissed Magenta deeply, the stood up and left, ready to face whatever pain Frank would inflict on him. As Magenta had said, it was worth it for the baby's sake.

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	7. Chocolate Pickles

Warning: This chapter has intense fluff. Which I'm sure you don't mind, right? ;)

Richard O'Brien owns the characters, not my storyline...

**Chapter Seven: Chocolate Pickles**

It was night. Riff-Raff had finished his work in the lab, looking forward to seeing his sister for the first time since that morning. She was now almost five and a half months pregnant with their child and he was constantly worrying about her, hoping that everything was as it should be. As he promised, he injected her with the serum every day, hopeful that it would serve its purpose.

He climbed the stairs to the servant's room, where Magenta usually was at this time of night. She had been reading lately, _to forget the troubles that lie ahead_, though Riff-Raff. Despite trying to forget, though, they had been adjusting to the circumstances they'd been dealt fairly well. The occasional look from Frank was the worst they had gotten, and if he threatened a whipping, Riff-Raff took all of them for his sister, wanting to protect his girls, as he had begun to think of Magenta and their unborn daughter.

He opened the door, a smile prepared for his lovely sister. The room was empty. Immediately, dangerous thoughts ran through Riff's mind..._Could Frank have done something?_..._Was there an accident?_ His eyes wide, he began to frantically search the room. When he had no luck, he ran downstairs, opening every door to every room, even the lab, where Frank had just finished pleasuring Ricky, formerly Randall, his newest creation.

As Riff entered the lab, he could hear the scene playing out behind the heavy curtains that laid in front of Frank's love den.

"Oh, Ricky," moaned Frank. "I knew, when I first saw you in that grave..."

Riff-Raff felt sick. It was almost as if Frank was copulating with corpses.

A loud grunt could be heard, followed by laughter. Riff-Raff decided this was as good a time as any.

He opened the curtain. Frank was lying on the bed, a satisfied look on his face and a glass of champagne in his hand. Ricky was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking tired.

"...Master?" asked Riff-Raff.

Frank grunted in annoyance. "Your voyeuristic tendencies will no doubt cause you your death one of these days. Now what do you want, _handyman_?" he asked, emphasizing the last word, knowing that was the thing Riff-Raff hated to be called most. He deserved to be called a doctor, not a handyman, since he was the man behind every one of Frank's creations, but Frank's worst fear was that this would become public. So, handyman he became.

Riff-Raff cleared his throat. "Have you seen Magenta?"

Frank chuckled. "What? Have you lost her?"

Riff-Raff began to get angry. "No, Furter, I haven't lost her."

Frank glared. "Master."

"Furter," said Riff-Raff defiantly.

"You WILL call me 'master'!" shouted Frank. "Is that clear?"

"Only if you tell me what you've done with her," mumbled Riff-Raff.

Frank crossed his arms and mockingly put a hand to his ear. "What was that? Did I hear, 'Yes, master'?"

Riff-Raff sighed. "Yes, master." There was no time for this. He had to find Magenta.

Frank grinned. "Good. I'm glad to see that you're still under my submission. Voyeurs, especially voyeurs that do not comply, get punished." He glared into Riff-Raff's eyes. "You wouldn't want your dear sister to fall, accidentally, that is, down the elevator shaft, now would you?"

Riff-Raff, not sure what to say, just glared stonily at Frank and left, frightful to see what laid at the bottom of the elevator shaft. He ran and looked, saw nothing, and sighed in relief. Hearing dark laughter, he turned around and saw Frank staring at him, looking amused.

Not wanting to deal with Frank's mind games any longer, Riff-Raff began once again his desperate search for Magenta. As he looked down the servant's hallway for what seemed like the twentieth time, he bumped into Columbia, who had an amused look on her face, as if she had been laughing.

"What?" he asked, glaring. "Do you think this is funny, too?"

Columbia looked confused. "What's funny, Riff?"

Riff-Raff sighed, a sad, defeated look on his face. "I've been looking for her for hours."

Columbia looked surprised, and then laughed, causing Riff-Raff to get even angrier.

"See?" he said. "Now it's funny. It was absolutely hysterical to Furter..."

"No, no, not that!" said Columbia through her giggles. "Did you even look in the kitchen?"

Riff-Raff's eyes went wide. "Why would she be there at such an hour?"

Columbia grinned. "Go see for yourself."

Riff-Raff ran to the kitchen, desperate to know if his sister was well. He threw open the door, and gasped at what he saw.

"Riff-Raff!" Magenta gasped, looking as if she had been caught in the act. The kitchen looked as if it had been ransacked, most everything on the floor. In front of her was an open jar of pickles and a bowl of melted chocolate.

Riff-Raff sighed in relief. "I have been looking for you for hours!"

Magenta stood up slowly, slightly impaired by her ever-evident bump that was constantly growing. "Oh, Riff...I didn't mean to worry you." She embraced him, her hands sticky with pickle juice and chocolate.

RIff-Raff pulled away, wiping chocolate off of his jacket. He took a good survey of the room, his mouth hanging open. "What have you been doing in here?!" he asked, alarmed.

Magenta just laughed, wiping her hands on her dress. "Well, I was absolutely starving, and I had wanted chocolate, but the pickles were there too..."

Riff-Raff looked at the table, suddenly feeling sick. "You're dipping pickles in chocolate!"

Magenta looked hurt. "What's so strange about that?"

Riff-Raff almost laughed. "It must not taste very good."

Magenta's eyes filled with tears. "You think I'm overeating, don't you?!"

Riff sighed, dreading another one of her crying spells. "No, no, darling, I just don't think that..." he shook his head, still perplexed. "Why the bloody hell would you eat chocolate pickles?"

Magenta sighed, wiping her face with a napkin. "I don't understand, either. I suppose _she_ wanted it," she said, pointing to her stomach.

Riff eased Magenta down to one of the wooden chairs and sat next to her, one hand on her shoulders and the other protectively on her belly.

Magenta smiled, placing her hand on top of Riff-Raff's. "She's been kicking today," she said, surprised that the baby kicked again just as she had said it.

Riff-Raff smiled. He had felt it too. "That's obvious," he said. The two laughed, looking lovingly at the bump as if it was already their child.

"What should we name her?" asked Magenta.

Riff-Raff wasn't sure. "I don't know...maybe Ruby, after mother?"

Magenta shook her head. "She wanted us dead, don't you remember? She made our childhood a living hell, that revolting, detestable..." She was quieted by another kick and sighed. "I suppose we'll know when we see her."

Riff-Raff nodded. "I suppose you're right."

Suddenly, Frank threw open the door to the kitchen. He took one look and said "I don't want to know." He walked away, leaving Magenta and Riff-Raff in a fit of laughter.

**NOW REVIEW, DAMN YOU! XD**


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